


Moonstars

by MoonlightBreeze



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: (FAILED ATTEMPT), (just for one line), Alec Lightwood Deserves Nice Things, Alec Lightwood Feels, Alec Lightwood Has Self-Worth Issues, Alec Lightwood Loves Magnus Bane, Alec Lightwood Needs A Hug, Alec Lightwood-centric, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Character Death, Gen, Good Parabatai Jace Wayland, Good Sibling Isabelle Lightwood, Hurt No Comfort, I do NOT give him the nice things, I don't give him that either, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Jia Penhallow is a Good Person, M/M, Mild Blood, Oh and Also, PLEASE READ MY AUTHOR'S NOTE, Self-Hatred, Suicide Attempt, Vomiting, and onto the v serious tags, basically Magnus stayed in Edom, no beta we die like men, no happy ending, the moon is a sentient being
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:42:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25778353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonlightBreeze/pseuds/MoonlightBreeze
Summary: What if Magnus had stayed in Edom? When Alec receives a letter from the Consul stating that his husband died while in Edom, he doesn't handle it well.Contains self-hatred, implied/referenced self-harm, suicide attempt, and character death (Magnus).No happy ending.EDIT:Sequel
Relationships: Alec Lightwood & Isabelle Lightwood & Jace Wayland, Alec Lightwood & himself, Isabelle Lightwood & Jace Wayland, Jia Penhallow & Alec Lightwood, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 12
Kudos: 53
Collections: Fluff vs. Angst Battle 2020





	Moonstars

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! First and foremost, I want to apologise. Every time I think I can't possibly write something angstier than what I've already written, I surprise myself and break a few hearts. This is that fic. Prepare to hurt. 
> 
> With that being said, this fic has a massive trigger warning on it. For: self-hatred, a little mention of blood and vomit, implied/referenced self harm, no happy ending, failed suicide attempt, and character death.
> 
> PLEASE NOTE: That character death is Magnus. This fic will honestly probably rip out your soul, and even the hopeful ending that I wrote in my sequel to this, Sunstars, does not involve Magnus coming back. This is probably some of the worst angst I will ever write.
> 
> I'm not entirely sure where I got this idea from - it started out as a 'let's write about Alec talking to the stars' type of thing and spiraled from there. Sidenote, I love celestial things - the moon, stars, space, etc. - and I wrote that into this fic. In this fic, the moon and the stars are sentient beings that can talk and have feelings. (Yes, the title is a play on the words 'moon' and 'stars' because I'm terrible at titles.) Also, I accidentally wrote Jia Penhallow as a motherly figure to Alec? Oops.
> 
> Without further ado, let's get on to the story! Kudos make my day and comments validate my existence, so please feel free to leave those, if you want :) And as always, I hope you have a wonderful day/night!
> 
> ~ Em
> 
>  **EDIT:** The amazing and wonderful [Hika](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColorfulWarlock/pseuds/ColorfulWarlock) made a BEAUTIFUL moodboard for this fic that I want to scream about forever. It can be viewed [here](https://thelightofthebane.tumblr.com/post/640444207267512320/this-moodboard-was-created-for-the-story). 
> 
> Please give this moodboard and creator all of the love, because she is truly amazing and deserves every bit of it <3 THIS MOODBOARD IS AMAZING AND I AM GOING TO SCREAM ABOUT IT FOREVER.

Even in Alicante, where there were no cars racing by and no people talking into their cellphones underneath streetlights, the night was alive. It hummed with energy and spoke to Alec in whispered tones only he could hear until dawn started to break. 

Alec couldn't count how many nights he’d stood out on his balcony, listening to the moon’s stories and bathing in the light from the stars. 

It was his escape. 

Alec reached for the wine glass on his coffee table and closed his fingers around the stem. He needed a little extra something to keep him on his feet tonight. He padded over to the balcony doors in his sock feet and shouldered them open. 

Immediately, the fresh air and scent of the city washed over him, making him breathe deeply and exhale in relief. The night sky was a comfort at the best of times, a balm over the deepest of his wounds at the worst. 

It was a clear night, for the most part, which Alec was grateful for. He hated the nights when clouds slid over his stars, obscuring them from view and making him feel as though he were all alone in the world. On those nights, he would retire early, falling into bed with exhaustion heavy in his bones and a heart that had never truly healed since the last time he’d seen its other half. On those nights, he would lay awake for hours, thinking about what could’ve been and what should’ve been and what almost was. 

It was enough to drive someone insane, and it’d certainly tried to. Alec was lucky to escape those nights with his life. 

Alec shook off the intrusive thoughts and focused his gaze upwards, smiling at the silver stars blinking at him from the dark sky. They always seemed so bright, so everlasting. He didn’t think he’d ever seen a single one die or even fade, and he’d been watching them from his balcony for over five years. 

Stars, he thought, were the strongest extension of himself. They were everything he was not and everything he wished to be. 

The moon, on the other hand, sometimes felt like the only thing in this world that understood him. Sometimes Alec would talk to the moon. When the moon was finished telling Alec about the Sun and all of the heartbreak he’d gone through for her, sometimes Alec told him about his own heartbreak, and how he went through it every day. 

His siblings didn’t understand Alec’s fascination with the night; they thought it was unhealthy, wanted him to move on. Alec had tried to explain once that he liked to talk to the moon and the stars, that they were really great listeners, but that had only hurt and upset them. “Why can’t you talk to us?” Jace had demanded. “We’re your siblings! I’m your parabatai!” And Isabelle had looked at him like she pitied him more than words could say, and he hated that look. He gave her a sharp glare, cutting off whatever additions to Jace’s statement she might have had. 

Since that day, Alec hadn’t dared to mention his late-night excursions to them again. 

They didn’t understand.

No one understood. 

He took a long swallow of wine and voiced these thoughts to the patient, dependable moon. “No one understands,” he admitted. “They don’t know what it’s like. How could they? They’ve never lost what I have.”

The moon seemed to wink its silvery-grey face at him, encouraging him to go on. “Sometimes love is so precarious,” Alec mused. “It’s kept alive by nothing more than a thin thread, and the people that hold on are inevitably hurt and broken in the end when the string snaps and they find they never really had anything to begin with.” 

Alec couldn’t help but think of his parents when he said that. He remembered their relationship, how fragile and tumultuous it had always been, until one day the string snapped and he found his mother crying in her office. She hadn’t said it that day, had waited until months later, but Alec knew. He knew that day that his father was cheating on her, and somewhere deep down he admitted to himself that he’d always known it would happen sooner or later. 

He wasn’t surprised.

Alec walked over to the edge of the balcony and rested his elbows on the railing, staring down at the empty street below. “Our love wasn’t like that,” he declared to the open air. “Magnus and I’s.” He took a deep breath, swallowed down the tears that threatened to spill over with every icy inhale he took. “Our love was stronger than a thread. It was stronger than anything, any bond I’d ever made.” He felt his voice begin to break. “It was the one thing I could count on.”

“When nothing else in the world made sense,” Alec whispered brokenly, “I could always count on our love. I knew that Magnus would be waiting for me when I went home at the end of the day. I knew that Magnus would take me and love me and look into the darkest parts of who I am and never judge me.” He swallowed hard, blinking the tears from his eyes. He could feel the soft gaze of the moon on him, knew that he was listening. 

“I miss him,” Alec admitted, a non sequitur. He swore he felt the stars’ presence all around him, making him feel a little less alone in the horribly large world - a world without Magnus, his mind supplied. Alec clutched the stem of his wine glass and took another long drink. He had a hard time admitting how much he needed that these days. 

Without Magnus there to liven it up and give it the _spark_ Alec so desperately missed, the loft was empty and silent. For a while, Alec had tried to make it work. He’d tried playing Magnus’s favourite music whenever he got home, he’d tried making the same dishes Magnus summoned for the two of them on date night, he’d even tried putting tiny little hats on Chairman Meow the way Magnus used to. 

It never worked. 

The loft wasn’t the same without Magnus. 

Alec gazed out over the city of Alicante and thought to himself that maybe _he_ wasn’t the same without Magnus. 

His siblings and friends had certainly said as much. Even Consul Penhallow was concerned. He didn’t think he’d ever seen the woman _look_ concerned, until the day she cornered him in the hallway and asked, in that no-nonsense manner of hers, if he was alright. 

He’d said yes, of course, lest he be removed from office, but in his mind he was screaming. He couldn’t decide if he was relieved or terrified to know that the Consul had noticed his behaviour. 

The twinkle of one of Alec’s favourite stars brought him out of his thoughts, and Alec’s lips quirked upward into a little half-smile - the most he could manage these days. It was the star that he used to wish on when he sat on the balcony’s futon with Magnus. Alec swallowed thickly. There was a reason he avoided the futon now. 

Suddenly, a flash of orange sliced through the peaceful atmosphere. Alec furrowed his brows and set the wine glass down on the railing to reach up and catch the fire message. He looked it over quickly once he had it. The contents made his stomach roll, and Alec stumbled, leaning against the railing for support. He could hear the moon and the stars whispering, asking what it was, telling him it was okay, that he wasn’t alone. For the first time in what felt like years, their words weren’t a comfort. 

The message on the smouldering paper instantly etched itself onto the backs of Alec’s eyelids, and he knew that he wouldn’t be forgetting it anytime soon. He felt tears begin to spill down his cheeks without his permission. He clutched the scrap of paper tighter and wondered if, perhaps, this was the sign he had been waiting for all these years. The sign that meant it was time to give up, that there wasn’t anything left for him to hold on to. 

_Dear Mr. Lightwood,_

_We regret to inform you that Shadowhunter scouts sent to Edom to research demonic life there have encountered evidence that points to the death of former High Warlock of Brooklyn Magnus Bane. Enclosed is a letter found next to his will, which is also enclosed. Mr. Bane has left everything to you and the warlocks Catarina & Madzie Loss. We thought you would like to read it._

_My deepest condolences for your loss._

_~ Consul Penhallow & staff_

Underneath the message was a less formal postscript, signed only by the Consul herself. 

_Alec,_

_I am so sorry. I know how much you loved him. Please, if there’s anything at all that I or Aline can do for you, don’t hesitate to ask. We’re all here for you._

_Most sincerely,_

_Jia_

Alec crumpled the letter from the Consul in his fist and turned his attention to the other two sheets of paper folded neatly inside the envelope. One was a thick legal document, obviously Magnus’s will. Alec put it to the side in favour of the letter, addressed to him in the swooping handwriting Alec had spent next to ten years missing every time he opened his eyes. 

He unfolded it with shaking hands and bated breath. This, whatever it was, were the last words Magnus wanted to say to him. The last words Magnus _would_ say to him. Alec inhaled sharply and swallowed hard. The last thing he needed was to break down before he even began. 

_My darling Alexander,_

Alec swore and clutched the railing tighter. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t _do this_ \- 

The moon whispered to him, told him he’d regret it if he abandoned the letter now. Alec heaved a sigh and tried to pull himself together. The moon had never lied to him before. 

_My darling Alexander,_

_I hope you never have to read this letter._

Alec choked on a sob and bit his lip, hard. He could do this. He could do this. He had to.

_But in the case that you are, please know that I miss(ed) you beyond belief. My engagement ring became a sort of lifeline for me, Alexander - my one tangible connection to the man I love._

Alec’s fingers unconsciously went to his right hand, twisting and fiddling with his own engagement ring. He hadn’t taken it off since Magnus had slipped it on his finger that night in Alicante. 

_I’m so sorry I didn’t come back._

There it was. The thing that had haunted Alec for years.

_I know you were counting on me returning safely. I was, too. I never wanted this. I would have let the whole world burn to spend my last moments with you. I never thought I would die here. I never thought I would leave you alone._

Alec heard the unspoken words in Magnus’s declaration; _I never thought I would die first._

_Please forgive me, Alexander. And please forgive yourself. I love you. I don’t know what happens to immortal beings after death, but I’d like to think I’ll be watching over you. If that’s true, I don’t want to see my Shadowhunter hurting himself like he used to. I don’t want to see blood on your knuckles, Alexander._

_Your family is there for you. Talk to them. Please, Alec._

_Consider it the last wish of a dying man._

_I love you. No matter what happens, I will always love you, Alexander._

_\- Magnus_

Alec pressed a hand to his mouth, trying desperately to muffle the sobs that he couldn’t seem to stop. Tears dripped onto the paper, smudging the ink and making Magnus’s signature blurry. Alec put the letter with the will and moved to stand over the railing once more. 

After all those years of hoping and wondering, worrying and yearning, and thinking and _hoping_ , it was finally over. 

He finally knew the truth, and he wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but this was colder and harsher than whatever Alec had dreamed about since his fiance disappeared that night. 

Magnus was dead, Angel knew for how long. There was no future for them. Alec was alone, would be alone for the rest of his short-lived Nephilim life. 

Shadowhunters, statistically, didn’t tend to live past age 55. Alec was nearly forty now. He only had fifteen, maybe twenty, years left before some demon or another loyal follower of Valentine’s disbanded Circle got the upper hand and killed him. 

_Fifteen years._

Fifteen years without Magnus. 

Alec didn’t think he could do it. 

He took a shaky breath, curling his fingers into fists around the balcony railing. He was barely surviving before that damn fire message arrived, when he still had hope that Magnus would find his way back to him. 

Now, that hope was gone. 

Alec felt lost and directionless, drifting in a sea of uncertainty. He knew what he wanted. He knew what his hands were itching to do, knew that it was nearly a fifteen-feet drop from the balcony to the empty street below. 

Fifteen years. Fifteen stories.

It was almost poetic. 

Alec swallowed hard and closed his eyes for a second. The images that burned behind his eyelids weren’t any better than the empty street he peered at from the balcony, and it made Alec feel tired & defeated. When would it end?

A voice in the back of his mind whispered to him, _You have to end it yourself, stupid._

Magnus’s words flew into his mind’s eye in a flash, and Alec felt a single tear rolling down his cheek. He didn’t have the energy to cry anymore, but he felt like his heart was breaking and cracking like glass whenever he took another breath. 

He laughed bitterly. Magnus had warned him against self-harm, had known that Alec’s usual response to bad situations was to crack his knuckles on a punching bag or fire arrows into the sky until his fingers were raw and bleeding. Magnus had never expected _this_. He’d never anticipated that, after he was gone, Alec might not want to live without him. 

For some odd reason, it made the blood in his veins boil for a split second - he’d told Magnus as much outside the Jade Wolf when they reconciled after the Soul Sword incident. 

_“I don’t think I can live without you.”_

Alec clenched his hands into fists around the railing. It was true. Magnus was Alec’s world. How could he ever learn to live without the man he loved? 

He knew, without a doubt, that there would never be anybody that could even come close to Magnus for Alec. Shadowhunters loved only once, and fiercely. Magnus was it for Alec. There would be no one else. And even if there were, Alec wouldn’t want them. He wanted _Magnus._

It was this thought that had Alec climbing over the railing to stand on the ledge above the street. He sounded like a child calling for its mother. _I want Magnus, I want Magnus, I want I want I want_ -

Alec took a deep, shuddery breath and forced himself to exhale. He couldn’t jump off of the balcony and expect to feel the kind of freedom he craved if he was having a panic attack while he did it. 

Magnus’s letter flitted across his mind once more. He wouldn’t want this. Alec clenched his jaw. Then again, he also wasn’t there to stop him. And he never would be, ever again. 

Alec took a deep breath, stepped forward, and let go of the railing. 

~ ~ ~

Consul Jia Penhallow stared pensively at the night sky from behind her desk. It was nearly three in the morning and she needed to get home. Yet, something still nagged at the back of her mind, just out of reach, telling her to stay. She didn’t feel this sense of foreboding often, but it almost always preceded something terrible, so Jia wasn’t willing to take a chance on the possibility of the feeling being a fluke. 

She’d already lost too many Shadowhunters to the Mortal War. If something or someone were to threaten them again, she would be more prepared to face the attack in her office than at home.

She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, picking absentmindedly at a few threads on the sleeve of her blazer, when she heard a low, tremulous sort of murmur that she’d never heard before in her forty-something years of life. 

Jia straightened up and called, “Who’s there?” Her fingers curled around her stele in her pocket, one hand already reaching for a seraph blade on instinct. 

“Do not be afraid,” the strange voice implored. “I don’t often speak to humans, but I’m afraid in this case I must make an exception.”

Jia looked around her office wildly. Every bone in her body wanted to identify the voice, assess the threat. She felt like a sitting duck, with no idea where the voice was coming from and no way to defend herself from all sides. 

“Where are you? _Who_ are you?”

“Your people have many names for me,” the voice replied calmly. “You most likely refer to me as the moon.”

Jia’s eyes widened in surprise and her voice took on a harsh tone. “Alright, whoever’s there, stop playing games with me. Show your face, coward!”

“We haven’t time for idle debate,” the voice said urgently. “Alec Lightwood is in grave danger. If you do not reach him soon, he will not survive.”

Jia paused, halfway out of her seat to grab the phone and dial security, at the voice - _the moon’s_ \- ominous words. She gripped the edges of her desk with one hand, the other firmly wrapped around the hilt of her seraph blade. 

“I swear, if this is someone playing a prank, I will exile you,” Jia promised. “This is not funny.” If anyone was guilty of talking out of their ass like that, she was sure her severe tone of voice would scare them into coming clean. 

“I told you,” the moon replied calmly. “This is not a prank. I am the moon. I have feelings, I am sentient, I can talk. I know this may come as some surprise, but it is of utmost important that you believe me.” There was a pause, and then the moon said tersely: “We do not have time for this, Consul Penhallow. Alec Lightwood needs you. If you value your Inquisitor’s life, you will heed my warning.”

With that, all traces of the voice disappeared. Jia took a deep, shaky breath and gazed out the window at the night sky. The moon had slipped behind the clouds once more, and she knew in her heart that this was the last time she would ever hear that voice. 

Her training told her to dismiss the message, write it off as bored teenagers with nothing better to do than harass the Consul late at night, but her gut twisted with some dreadful knowledge, and she found herself grabbing her coat and racing out of the Gard like someone’s life depended on it. 

And in a way, she supposed, maybe it _did._

~ ~ ~

The first thing Alec registered after he hit the ground wasn’t pain. It was a sense of disconnect, like his body wasn’t his own. A small, whimpering sound filled the air. He couldn’t move his arms or his legs. He felt hot and cold at the same time, and the tears that dripped down his cheeks burned like acid. 

By the Angel, they fucking _burned._

Alec couldn’t remember a time when he wished more to be able to sleep. He was exhausted. His limbs felt heavy and all he wanted was to not _feel._

By the Angel, why couldn’t he go _numb?_ Nothing at all would be better than this.

More tears poured down his cheeks, and he knew that half of them were from frustration and confusion more than pain. He didn’t understand what was happening, why he was on the pavement, why his back was twisted at an odd angle and he couldn’t move his body.

Vague memories of before, of the balcony, the wine, the moon, the _letter_ \- Alec realised with a start that the whimpering that filled the air was coming from him. _He_ was whimpering. The more he concentrated on the sound, the more tears spilled down his cheeks. He was whimpering Magnus’s name. 

_Oh, Angel._

_Magnus._

Even through the haze that clouded his senses, Alec could see the letter clearly in his mind. The words were burnt, seared as if by a hot iron, into his brain.. Every time Magnus had held a pen and the ink kissed the page, Alec could see it. He could see it clearly, and it made him want to _die._

Alec knew he was in Alicante. He remembered enough about his circumstances to know that. But the clamour in his mind was enough to make him feel like he was in Edom, surrounded by lethal Edomites and fighting to get to Magnus. 

Alec felt more tears slip from his eyes. He would rather be in Edom, fighting to the death for the man he loved, than alone in a city that, even years later, still hated Downworlders. That thought made his eyes widen, and Alec struggled to take a breath, panic seizing his lungs as he wondered what Magnus would think about his decision to become Inquisitor and move to Alicante.

Self-loathing creeped into Alec’s heart and squeezed it like a vice. He was _living_ in a city that housed so many of Magnus’s worst memories. 

Alec gasped, trying his hardest to stop the way his chest seized. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t _breathe._

Alicante wasn’t his home. He didn’t belong here. Alec had always felt like an outsider, different and not good enough in his own Institute. When he met Magnus, everything had changed. For the first time, Alec could be himself around someone else. He could see the future in a kaleidoscope lens, full of opportunities and happiness he didn’t know he was capable of. 

Alec choked on a sob and rested his cheek on the cement in defeat. He belonged with Magnus. 

Magnus was his home. 

And now his only lifeline, the person that had taken Alec’s life and turned it upside down, changed his future and his mindset and his _hope,_ was gone.

Alec had never felt more alone.

A cacophony of lights and noises suddenly filled Alec’s senses, causing him to choke and gag. He’d just started to regain his ability to breathe, but the disruption stole the breath from his lungs just as well as his original thoughts had. Something bright prodded the edge of his vision, followed quickly by the sensation of hands and someone’s - someone _familiar,_ his mind supplied - voice.

Alec tried to resist, tried to move away from the offending touch and show this person that he just wanted to lay here until his eyes finally slipped closed, until his breaths grew short and his heart ground to a halt. He didn’t know how to make them understand that he didn’t _want_ to be saved.

“No,” he managed to moan out around whimpers and soft cries that lacked any of the adrenaline-soaked energy of before. “No, please don’t.”

“Don’t what?” The voice was clearer now, and Alec racked his brain to try and find who it belonged to. 

“Don’t, don’t,” he murmured, catching the wrist of the person kneeling over him and holding tight. He pulled, and heard a sharp grunt from the other person as they fell under the force of his tug. “Don’t,” he said, as urgently as he could manage with such an impaired ability to speak. “Don’t, please, j-just leave me here.”

“Like hell!” the voice exclaimed. It sounded almost angry, and that was when Alec recognised it. 

It was Consul Penhallow.

_Jia._

“You are the best Inquisitor the Clave has seen in years, Alec Lightwood, and you are _not_ going to die today,” Jia said firmly, and she pried his hand from her wrist. Alec felt strong arms around his waist and behind his knees, and then the sickening, dizzying sensation of being lifted. He lurched and just managed to steer clear of Jia’s arms before he vomited, emptying the contents of his stomach onto Alicante’s precisely trimmed, dark green grass. He heard Jia make a sound of sympathy, and then a wet cloth was on his face, wiping his mouth and tenderly swiping across his bitten-raw lips. 

Alec felt more tears rise to his eyes at her treatment. He’d just hurled himself to the ground from a balcony because his fiance was dead, was never coming back. He was _pathetic._ He didn’t deserve this. 

“Shh,” Jia crooned to him, and Alec felt his cheeks flame with embarrassment. By the Angel, he hadn’t meant to say any of that out loud. He couldn’t believe he was allowing the Consul, his boss, the woman who had managed to keep it together when her own daughter was taken by Circle members the previous month, to see his weakness. He couldn’t _believe_ himself.

Alec had grown up intimately familiar with self-hatred, had felt the claws of it dig deep enough to shred and rip and tear until he barely had any regards for himself by the time he was eighteen. He knew this feeling, had embraced and nurtured it for years. 

But since his almost-wedding, since Clary had invaded their lives and brought with her opportunities he didn’t think he’d ever get, since _Magnus,_ Alec hadn’t felt it. It was still there, of course - but dormant. The smiles that graced his lips were genuine, and Alec couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken to a punching bag over his fiance. Even the memory of Magnus, after he’d gone to Edom, had been enough to keep him from stumbling over that precipice and falling headfirst into old habits that he knew damn well he wouldn’t be able to break. 

But now Magnus was gone, and with him the hope of Alec’s happiness. 

Now? All bets were off. 

The self-flagellation was back, the intense, all-consuming feeling of hatred that had laid in silent wait all these years. Now, Alec didn’t know what he was going to do, didn’t know what he _could_ do besides try to find a way to make it stop hurting. 

“I’ve called your siblings,” Jia’s voice drifted down to Alec, and he was vaguely aware of her hand smoothing his hair back from his forehead, caressing his temple like a mother might do to her child. 

His siblings? Alec felt something spark white-hot in the back of his mind, but it was gone in an instant, like it was never even there. 

“Isabelle and Jace are on their way,” Jia continued. “They’re going to meet us at the infirmary.” She hesitated, and then placed a light, barely-there kiss to his forehead. “You’re going to be okay, Alec.”

Alec wasn’t sure he believed her at all.

~ ~ ~

Jia peered over Alec’s bed in the infirmary, pursing her lips. She’d already drawn several iratzes on him; there wasn’t much else she could do until the medic came and began to heal him. She sighed and considered going back to her office to lock up, but truth be told, she didn’t want to leave Alec alone.

Despite the burn of the iratzes and the massive head wound that Jia was sure any other Shadowhunter would have passed out from by now, Alec remained stubbornly conscious. 

Well, perhaps _conscious_ wasn’t the right word to use. Jia was confident that if Alec could see himself right now, he would have fought her tooth and nail to get away and hide himself. He was laid out on the bed, his clothes soaked through with blood and sweat, the crown of his t-shirt dripping with tears. He kept _whimpering,_ soft little cries that reminded Jia of when Aline was little. He kept moaning Magnus’s name, begging him not to be gone, spouting any number of promises to him about how good and _better_ he would be if Magnus just came back. How Magnus was his hope, his world, and he didn’t know how to survive without him.

It was painful to listen to.

The door to the infirmary flew open with a crash, and Jace & Isabelle ran inside, their steps frantic. The Head, the younger sibling, was talking the instant she saw Jia, demanding to know what had happened and how he was and if he would be okay. Jace ignored her entirely, racing to Alec’s side and wrapping an arm around his parabatai’s shaking shoulders. 

“Alec,” he murmured, and his voice held so much sorrow and heartbreak that Jia felt tears rise to her eyes. This wasn’t even her affair. A sentient being of nature (Angel, she was still trying to wrap her head around _that_ ) had sent her a message to save her Inquisitor, one that she couldn’t, in her right mind, ignore. 

She tried hard not to think about how much Alec reminded her of Aline. She tried hard to ignore how her mind had taken her back to years before, a scene of bathtubs and crimson and razors, when she had seen Alec on the concrete with blood pooling around his head. She tried hard to pretend the silver lines on Alec’s palms were from something mundane, some accident in the line of duty. She tried so hard to convince herself they didn’t remind her of the scars that littered Aline’s arms, no, they _didn’t._

Isabelle grasped Jia’s arm, snapping her from her thoughts. “Well?”

Jia realised belatedly that Isabelle was waiting for an explanation, and she opened her mouth to speak. 

“I was dropping off some notes at Alec’s apartment for his meeting tomorrow,” she lied easily. “And I saw him there on the pavement. It - It looks like he jumped.”

Jia wasn’t sure what she expected - denial, anger, even outright rage - but it wasn’t what she got. Isabelle lowered her head and nodded tightly. There was no surprise on her face. It was almost like she had expected that answer. 

“What happened?” Jace demanded from his position next to Alec. “Something must have happened. He wouldn’t just go off the rails like this without a reason.” His voice was thick with unshed tears, and Jia had to swallow down her own and clear her throat before she could answer. 

“Magnus died,” she said hollowly. “I just got the letter this evening. I sent the news to him right away.”

Isabelle’s expression contorted into one of rage. “And you didn’t tell us?!”

Jia bristled. “He’s a grown man! I figured he’d tell you on his own time.”

“Yeah, and look how well that turned out,” Isabelle snapped.

“Izzy,” Jace said, and there was a hint of desperation in his voice. “Come on, please? It's not her fault, she didn’t know. Alec needs us right now.”

Isabelle took a deep breath and nodded. “You’re right.” She turned away and stalked to Alec’s bedside, taking up residence at the foot of his bed. Jia watched as she hooked a hand around one of his ankles and joined Jace in murmuring to him, trying to get him to calm down and sleep.

Jia turned away, suddenly feeling like an intruder on a private scene. She was almost to the door, her hand poised over the doorknob, when Jace spoke.

“Thank you for saving our brother.”

Jia felt her eyes fill with tears, and she coughed loudly to clear the emotion from her throat. “Of course.” She watched as Jace slotted himself in the space between Alec and his sister, holding her as much as he was holding Alec. The position was all too familiar for them, and Jia wondered how many times this had happened before. 

She wasn’t sure why she lingered, especially after Alec finally began to quieten down and drift off into sleep, but she did, pausing with her hand on the doorknob for much longer than appropriate.

Jace and Isabelle both heaved huge sighs of relief when Alec’s breathing began to deepen, and Jia could practically feel the concern and sorrow that radiated off of them in waves. She took a breath, preparing herself to bid them goodbye, when Isabelle met her teary gaze over Jace’s shoulder and asked the one question Jia was dreading having to answer. 

“Is he going to be okay?”

Jia took a deep breath and said, “I don’t know.”

Jace took Isabelle’s hand and squeezed it tightly. A single tear rolled down his cheek as he answered the question definitely for both Isabelle and Jia.

“We do.”

The utter despair that filled the room at Jace’s words left no room for misinterpretation. 

Jia turned the door handle and left the siblings to care for their brother. On the way back to her office, she sent up a prayer to Raziel that Alec Lightwood wouldn’t be the second Inquisitor to die under her charge. 

But even as she locked up the Gard and made her way home, she knew in her bones that Aline was an exception, that the scars on her arms made her stronger in a way most couldn’t even fathom. 

Alec Lightwood, Jia knew, would not be nearly so lucky.

**Author's Note:**

> [Stalk me on Tumblr](www.tumblr.com/blog/moonlight-breeze-44)
> 
> Prompts are open!
> 
> Want to embrace your inner chaotic fandom participant? Require somewhere to scream about Shadowhunters and other fandoms? Need writing advice, encouragement, or new friends? [Join our Discord server](https://discord.gg/82pvdE39fD) and find your place in a community of fandom-ers livin' it up! We welcome everyone, and we would love to have you. <3
> 
>  **NOTE:** I have written a sequel to this fic called Sunstars! It can be found [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26039260).


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